


What's Gone Is Not Lost

by Johnlocked221b



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Daenerys is happy, F/M, Khal Drogo is having none of it, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Viserys is a little shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-13 00:51:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2130876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johnlocked221b/pseuds/Johnlocked221b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What would happen if Khal Drogo had decided he wanted Viserys instead? Featuring a very pissy princess Viserys being put in his place. Later chapters will be explicit. Possible dub-con earlier, but I'll be going as consensual as possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reckoning Day

Viserys sat in an ornate, ivory chair as his handmaiden brushed out his silvery waves and twisted small sections to pin them at the back of his head. He stared ahead at the stone wall silently; tense and high-strung. Today was the day. The day Khal Drogo and his savages would be looking over his young sister. The day he’d been waiting on for months. He could hardly believe it was here already and truth be told, he dreaded it. He’d be forced to live amongst the Dothraki filth for years, just to be sure Drogo held up his end of the deal. And what if he didn’t like her? Oh, what was he going on about? Of course he’d like her. She was a Targaryen; the dragon’s royal blood coursed through her veins like fire. She was as beautiful as her mother; filling out with womanly curves that should be highlighted by the fabric he’d picked out for her. She was not a common whore. Daenerys was a princess.  
“My lord, you are ready.” The maiden’s voice was shaky with fear, afraid that if she pulled him out of his headspace it would awaken the dragon; a punishment she knew far too well.  
“Hmm?” He rather hummed, looking up at her with his large violet eyes.  
“I’m sorry, my lord, but…b-but you’re…”  
“Don’t stutter.” He frowned. “It’s unbecoming.”  
She only bowed her head.  
Viserys huffed and stood, walking out without another word. When he saw Dany, dressed in her silk and jewels, he couldn’t help but smile. She was stunning. “You’ll want to smile.” He said in a tone that she knew was a warning.  
Together, the siblings walked out to where Illyrio was and they stood.  
And stood.  
And stood.  
“Where is he?” Viserys asked, his frustration growing by the minute.  
“The Dothraki are not known for their punctuality.” Illyrio answered with a rather amused smile. He was used to dealing with the prince’s attitude and impatience.  
Then, the sound of hooves thundering closer and closer punctuated the air. Viserys’ back straightened and she stood tall and proud. _Like a king_ , Dany thought.  
When he saw him, Viserys could not hide his impressed smirk. The men were big and their horses were suited to them. The biggest of them was the Khal. He was a bull of a man, tall with a braid of dark hair that touched his thighs, tinkling with tiny bells. Magister Illyrio went to greet them and Viserys took hold of Dany's arm, his fingers squeezing tight enough to leave bruises in their wake.  
“Do you see his braid, sweet sister?” He eyed the rope of hair, leaning down so that he could whisper to her. “You see how long it is? When Dothraki are defeated in combat, they cut off their braid so the whole world can see their shame. Khal Drogo has never been defeated. He’s a savage, of course, but he’s one of the finest killers alive. And you will be his queen.”  
Just then, Illyrio was asking Daenerys to step forward. Viserys’ hand returned to the hilt of his borrowed blade as she went to him.  
Viserys watched as the man looked her over, half anxious that he would not want her and a bit jealous that this savage would be taking his betrothed. Daenerys was meant to be his. Not some horse-hardened beast with a brutality complex.  
And then something rather unexpected happened. The khal’s dark eyes moved from her to Viserys. Illyrio looked just as shocked as he did and he turned to look at the prince as well.  
Drogo said but one word and it was in Dothraki. “ _Mae_.”  
“Excuse me?” Viserys asked, stepping forward beside his sister to look up at the man. He then looked at Illyrio. “What did he just say?”  
Illyrio turned to him, eyes wide. “He wants _you_.”


	2. A Decision Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viserys makes a decision...with a condition, of course.

“Absolutely not!” Viserys cried out for the fifth time. He was pacing back and forth in front of his sister and Illyrio. “Who does that dog think he is? I’m not going to wed a savage!”

He saw the relieved look on Daenerys’ face and growled, stepping up to her. “It was _you._ You didn’t stand up straight enough! What of your smile, huh?! What did you _do?!_ ”

“I-I don’t know, sweet brother.” She whimpered, cowering in fear of him. He lifted his hand to strike her and Illyrio spoke.

“It is not her fault, your grace. I’m afraid Khal Drogo is known for his unconventional choices in mates. Perhaps he found you more beautiful.”

Viserys dropped his hand to his side and eyed the both of them with a cold glare before stomping back into the palace.

Daenerys took an audible breath of relief and looked over at their caretaker. “My brother will have to marry the khal, won’t he?”

“If he wishes to use their army, yes. He will.” Illyrio answered, looking out over the city.

“Do you think he will do it?” The thought of Viserys as a bride made her smile just a little.

Illyrio glanced over at her. “Your brother is a difficult man but none can deny that he is driven. I think he will do whatever it takes to take back his throne.”

Dany just nodded and glanced back at the red door.

*:･ﾟ✧

Viserys sat in the scalding bath water and took a long breath. He found that the steam usually seemed to clear his mind. However, this time, he couldn’t get Drogo’s face out of his head. He was large; very large. The man must have been upwards of about seven feet. Truth be told, Viserys was terrified of him. How in seven hells was he supposed to _marry_ him? And were they supposed to _consummate_ their marriage?

Viserys Targaryen was stubborn. He would do whatever it took to take down the Usurper and sit upon his throne...even if that meant playing _khaleesi_ for a while.

What a term.

No doubt he would demand to be named _khal_ as well.

He peeked a lilac eye open when the soft washcloth was brought over his arm, shoulder and back. The touch was gentle; cautious even. Viserys opened his other eye and looked up at the maiden in front of him. She was beautiful, with long hair and creamy brown skin. Her dark eyes moved over his body as she washed him.

“What’s your name?” He wondered aloud.

Her eyes met his, widening a bit. “Zahlah, m’lord.”

He hummed and nodded, relaxing under her touch. “You’re rather good at this, Zahlah.”

“I do my best for you, m’lord.” She answered monotonously.

He only smiled. “Fetch Doreah, will you? Bring her to me, nude.”

Zahlah nodded and bowed, walking out quickly.

Viserys took his time alone to slip under the water and enjoy the silence and the heat. _Everything will work out_ he told himself. _Put on a smile and fake it...in the end, you will reap the reward for your troubles._

Viserys smiled.

*:･ﾟ✧

Daenerys Stormborn was hopeful.

Perhaps if her brother were the one to marry the khal, she would not be forced to come with them. She’d always dreamed of life at Pentos without Viserys. Walking through the market and pursuing her interests without fearing the dragon. Never before had that dream felt so real. So reachable. Dany _knew_ Pentos. She knew nothing of King’s Landing except for the things Viserys had told her late at night; back when he was a normal boy of thirteen. He’d twirl her silver hair around his fingers and tell her stories; beautiful stories of their home. He told her of the Red Keep and the dragon skulls on the walls. He told her the names of those dragons until she could recite them herself; riding him piggy-back through the market.  Viserys smiled a lot more back then.

She missed that boy. She missed her brother.

“My lady?” Zahlah asked timidly from the door.

Dany looked up and smiled at her. “Yes?”

“I’m here to tend to your bath.” The girl answered, wringing her hands. They were heavily calloused and rough with hard work.

“What about Doreah?” Dany asked. Doreah was her favorite maid.

“She is tending to Prince Viserys, m’lady.”

Dany cringed at the word ‘Prince’ and immediately looked around for Viserys, expecting the angry dragon to appear from the shadows, though she knew he was not there. It was a habit. She then nodded. “Very well. Though I can bathe myself.”

“I’m sure, m’lady.” Zahlah nodded with a hint of a smile. She seemed...relieved to be here. It was no wonder. She was Viserys’ maid. And he was not known to be a kind master.

*:･ﾟ✧

“I’ll do it.” Viserys announced from his place at the table. Both Illyrio and Daenerys watched him carefully. There was a catch. There was always a catch.

“But...I want Dany to come with me.” His smirk made her heart sink. “You will come with me, won’t you, sweet sister?”

She stared at the potatoes on her plate.

“Won’t you?” His voice was a warning this time.

She answered only quietly. “Of course.”

  
  
  
  



	3. Remember Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viserys Targaryen does not like thunderstorms...

_The ship rocked violently on the water and screams pierced through the night air. Eight-year-old Viserys Targaryen could hear the rain pelting on the deck above them over the sounds of the Maester’s voice urging on. “Breathe…and push!” Viserys held his mother’s hand as she did just that, letting out a wail of anguish. “Push! Give us another push, Rhaella! Stay with me!”_   
_Viserys watched as his mother gave another cry and a large push, her eyes rolling back into her head when the first cries of his new baby sister were heard over the thunder and the crash of the sea against the side of the ship. Only, Viserys was not paying attention to that. His mother blinked wearily up at him, a soft hand cradling his cheek as her face became as pale as her hair. “Stay strong, my little dragon.”_   
_“Mum?” He was ashamed of the shake in his voice. Rhaella smiled at her son and closed her eyes as if she were falling asleep. “Mum?!” Viserys cried out, his little hands shaking her shoulders. “Mum wake up! No! Mum, please! Not you too! Don’t leave us!” He was being pulled away, kicking and screaming and sobbing._

Viserys sat up in bed, shaking at the memory. He could still feel the spray of sea water on his face. Trying to scrub off that terrible feeling, he swallowed hard and looked over at the other body in his bed. Soft, pale skin and dark hair that spread out like a curtain on the pillow. Doreah. Reaching over, he nudged her shoulder. “Wake up.”

The girl groaned and shifted in her sleep.

Viserys rolled his eyes and shouted. “Wake up!”

That had her sitting up and blinking at him with confusion. “My lord?”

He frowned at the sight of her. “Get out. I need sleep.”

“But you were sle-“ She stopped when she saw the dangerous glint in his eye. Doreah climbed out of bed and quickly gathered her things, before hurrying out of his chambers nude and aching.

Once he knew she was gone, Viserys lay back down and took a long sigh. The tears leaked down his cheeks in the darkness. “I know that you would not have me marry this savage, mum. The things I’ve had to do to get my throne back. You would be ashamed…” He whispered, fingers digging into the pillow as the lighting flashed outside his window. “I’m trying to stay strong for you.”

“Viserys?” There was a soft voice coming from the doorway. She sounded so like his mother. It almost gave him hope…and that enraged him like nothing else.

He whirled around and glared dangerously at his sister. “Get out.”

Daenerys paused at the end of his bed. “I-I was only worried. I know how you fear st-“

“I fear nothing.” He declared, sitting up straighter. “Now get out.”

“Please don’t push me away.”

“Out!”

Instead, with the fear of misbehaving traveling up her spine like electric, she went to him and pulled his cheek against her chest. Viserys struggled, of course he did, but she held on until he calmed and stopped pushing at her. Dany’s hand combed through his hair like his did in hers so long ago. “I want to help you.”

“Why?” He asked, brow furrowed. If Dany noticed the tears soaking her night-clothes, she said nothing.

She sighed. “Because, despite everything, you are my brother and you are all I have left.”

Viserys closed his eyes and just held on. That’s all he could really do.

 


	4. The Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of the wedding and Viserys is not pleased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains Dubious-Consent

Viserys watched the dancing and wedding festivities with disgust. Bodies writhing and rubbing together to the quick beat of the drums. His husband beside him seemed apathetic to the movements going on before them; that is until the battle started over one of the few females dancing about the fire. The Khal’s lips only quirked up in one corner and only a tiny bit. Viserys hardly blinked when blood was spilled, dark crimson over the sand and dirt, and the champion mounted his prize. _“A Dothraki without at least three deaths is deemed a dull affair,”_ Magister Illyrio had warned.

These savages had no shame. There was no privacy; every action was done for the entire _khalasar_ to witness.

Viserys briefly wondered if they would be consummating their marriage with an audience. He hoped not. He could not stand for others to see the king shoved to his hands and knees, mounted like a whore.

His hands twitched with his nerves. It was bound to hurt, but his father used to tell him, _“A king should never be comfortable.”_ Viserys would take the pain for his throne. It was all he had.

His eyes met Daenerys’ where she sat below him, dressed in silks and looking rather uncomfortable. He knew she missed Pentos; the palace with the red door and soft beds; foods that were not horse, and smells that were sweet and pleasant. It brought him a certain joy that she was suffering with him. She should earn the throne just as he had to.

Sensing his anxiety, Dany turned back to watching the dance in front of them. She did not want to cause an annoyance. Rightfully so. Viserys was on edge. It wouldn’t take much to wake the dragon today.

Drogo suddenly clapped and everything came to a halt. The shouts, music, dancing and feasting stopped immediately. Viserys was lifted to his feet and he scowled, pulling his arm away. The only thing that kept him from snapping angrily at being touched was the realization that it was time for gifts.

From Daenerys, he received two maidens to tend to his needs and to teach him the Dothraki tongue, as well as a small steward to teach him how to please a man. The steward handed him a small basket of oils. Viserys scowled at that, but nodded in thanks. He would need the help.

From Ser Jorah, he received stacks of books, records and maps detailing the histories and songs of the Seven Kingdoms. From Magister Illyrio, he was given a blade and a trunk.

Viserys eyed the trunk and then leaned down to open it. A small gasp came from his sister at the sight of the three beautiful scaled stones sitting on a bed of red velvet. Eggs. Viserys lifted one into his hands and studied it. It looked of stone, but it was so beautiful shimmering in the light of the setting sun. The shell was black, yet swirled with blood and embers. The others that still sat in the trunk were a deep green and bronze and pale cream and gold. Viserys’ lilac eyes, wide and soft with wonder, flickered up to the Magister. “My father told me that dragons had all died out.”

“And so they have. These are but stones now.”

Viserys looked down at his egg and turned it over in his hands. It seemed to be radiating warmth. He glanced over at Daenerys and bid her to come forward. She swore, in these few moments, that it was still her late brother speaking to her; moving her hand to the egg and staring up at her with some sort of hope. “Do you feel that?” He asked her. “The heat. Do you feel it?”

She could only nod.

He gently set the egg back in the chest; far gentler than he’d been in years…with anything.

Drogo’s blood riders gifted him with the traditional three weapons; a large whip of leather that ended with a silver handle from Haggo, from Cohollo a great _arakh_ of gold, and from Qotho, a giant double-curved dragon bone bow taller than himself. Viserys accepted these gifts, much to the dismay of Ser Jorah and Magister Illyrio who had urged him to refuse and give them to his lord husband instead.

From other Dothraki, he received lavish sandsilks and silver rings for his hair, medallions, vests, furs, slippers and jars of scents that Viserys found most distasteful. At his feet lay so many wonderful gifts; more than he had ever been given in his entire life.

Finally, a hush went over the _khalasar_ and Drogo left his side, only to return with his own “bridegift.” She was a beautiful mare, spirited and breathtaking. Viserys stood and his hand moved over her neck

“She is beautiful…” He couldn’t help but say. She was, too. He looked up at the _khal_ when he grunted something in Dothraki. Viserys looked to Illyrio for translation.

“He says silver for the silver of your hair.”

The _khal_ spoke again.

“She is the pride of the _khalasar._ Custom decrees that the _khaleesi-“_

 _“Khal.”_ Viserys interrupted. He was no woman.

“-that the _khaleesi_ must ride a mount worthy of her place by the side of the _khal.”_ Illyrio continued patiently.

And then suddenly, Viserys’ feet were no longer on the ground. He was being lifted to the saddle and that was most humiliating. “Unhand me!” He cried out, voice cracking in embarrassment. “This instant!” And Drogo did once Viserys was seated on the thin saddle. The _khal_ smirked and then mounted his own horse; a red stallion, lean and strong.

Viserys looked down as they rode through the crowd, the _khalasar_ parting before them and jumping out of the way. He towered above them like a king, and yet he felt no more than a child. This fear was made even worse when the last of the sun disappeared behind the walls of Pentos. His hand shook on the reins a bit and he met his sister’s worried gaze with a glare. She was probably pleased that it wasn’t her up here. He should beat her just for that…

He was jerked from his violent thoughts when the filly beneath him began following the _khal’s_ stallion quicker. The saddle was small and he felt like a fool upon it. Then, he remembered what would come and was glad that he was only riding a horse for now…

They rode until the stars became their only light, the only sounds coming from the tiny bells in Drogo’s hair and the horses’ hooves upon the ground. “I am the blood of the dragon,” he repeated quietly to himself. “The dragon is never afraid.”

They rode on further until they came to a stream beside a small patch of grass. Drogo dismounted his horse and before he could lift Viserys, the prince was landing on his feet and stumbling a bit. He stood there with a look of hatred on his sharp face. Of all of the things he had ever dreaded, this was the worst…even worse than when he thought they could be found and killed by the Usurper’s dogs any day. Despite Viserys’ dull and bored expression, he was trembling all over.

Drogo stepped before him and held his sharp chin in a large hand. “No.” Viserys frowned at him and jerked his face away.

“You speak the Common Tongue?” His voice was only a bit hopeful.

“No.”

Viserys frowned at him. “Of course not.” He jerked away again when the _khal’s_ hand went to his hair. Just because he had to do this didn’t mean he couldn’t put up a bit of a struggle…delay the events a bit.

Drogo’s voice was warm and though Viserys couldn’t understand a word of it, it at least stopped his trembling a bit. Odd.

Viserys glared when he met Drogo’s dark eyes and was surprised at the tenderness in them. It shocked the young prince that no matter how hostile he was to this man, Drogo always seemed to treat him gently and patiently. It angered him.

“What is this?” He screeched. “What are you doing? Why are you not hitting me? Why are you not acting a savage and taking what is now rightfully yours?! Why are you not angry with me?”

Drogo’s hand moved to cup his chin, gently but firmly. “No.”

Viserys grit his teeth and then sunk to his knees, turning around to rest on his hands as well. “Get it over with then.”

“No.” Drogo simply bent over and lifted him back up to his feet. Viserys was surprised at the strength of him and confused as to why this savage was not reacting with violence and aggression. He watched as the _khal_ began to remove the bells from his hair, one by one, and then after, undid his braid until his thick, black hair curtained down his back. Viserys admired the length and health of it. It looked most soft.

His hands then moved to Viserys silks and Viserys took a nervous step back, violet eyes wide. “I will do it.” He declared, lifting his chin proudly. His fingers at his chest were stopped, however, by Drogo’s. “No.”

Drogo undressed him slowly and deftly, taking his time removing the silks from Viserys’ body. Viserys kept his angry eyes averted, trying his best not to let tears leak. _I am the blood of the dragon. The dragon is never afraid. I am the blood of the dragon. The dragon is never afraid. I am the blood of the dragon…_

He closed his eyes when his lower half was bared to the air and made to cover himself with his hands. Drogo’s thicker and larger hands took them and moved them away and then lifted his face to look at him again. “No.”

Viserys swallowed hard. Suddenly, he felt very vulnerable and ashamed. His gleaming white skin pebbled with gooseflesh in the coolness of the night air. He stood there quietly, all pride lost to anxiety as Drogo drank him in with his eyes.

When Drogo finally touched him, Viserys was quick to jerk away. And yet he stood there, preparing himself for the next touch. Drogo touched him gently at first, fingers brushing against Viserys’ and trailing up his arm, to his shoulder, his long neck and delicate jawline. He traced over his trembling lips and then behind his ear. Viserys could feel the strength the _khal_ possessed, but Drogo never hurt him. He combed thick fingers through silver hair and then turned him around, fingers rubbing at his shoulders and stroking down his spine.

Drogo’s touches became a bit rougher when his hands moved around to Visery’s chest. His fingers traced circles around his nipples and then began to pinch and pull at them until they began to stiffen and ache. Viserys was ashamed at how aroused he was; he’d never expected the electricity that would spark up and down his spine.

He stopped and then turned Viserys again. Drogo sat on a smooth rock beside the river, cross-legged. He pulled Viserys down into his lap, face-to-face with his bride. Viserys couldn’t look away from his eyes, especially when large hands cupped his face. “No?”

Viserys took a large gulp of air, brows furrowed. “Yes.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god, I am so very sorry about the delay. I had a lot of bad stuff go down and I haven't had much time for writing. I hope this is still to your liking though! Thank you all so very much for your kudos, kind words, and patience! xx


	5. Almost Acceptance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mornings after are always awkward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope this isn't going too slow or that Viserys isn't too OOC. I only had a limited bit of footage of him from the show to work from, but you can tell me if you think he needs some work.  
> Heads up for descriptions of sexy times.

Viserys woke up to the sound of birds, those annoying little creatures. If he could, he would wring their necks for _daring_ to wake the dragon, every last one of them. However, two things prevented him from moving.

The first was a large, muscled arm wrapped about his waist and that arm was attached to a body and thick legs that were tangled with his own thin pair. Hot bursts of air graced the back of his neck and increasingly became unpleasant as he was held flush against the solid body behind him.

Then, there was the deep ache in his muscles. It affected every spot on his body, especially between his legs. It was sore and chaffed and he just felt…empty. Gods above, if every night was going to be like that…well, he just hoped the _khal_ would learn to be a bit more gentle. He was a prince after all, his lithe body wasn’t used to the brutal, world-shaking thrusts he’d received several times the night before and gods forbid it ever _become_ used to that.

The man was insatiable, like he’d had years of pent up lust boiling under his skin. Eventually, Viserys had to just outright refuse to give over his body any more. The _khal_ fell asleep not moments later and Viserys after, head resting on Drogo’s bicep as if it were a pillow.

Viserys couldn’t very well claim that Drogo was a selfish lover. He went fast and hard, but always gave him the courtesy of a reach-around and Viserys couldn’t lie. He _had_ climaxed…multiple times.

And much to his discomfort, he was absolutely covered in it. His skin felt tight with it, and he grimaced. Disgusting. He winced as he wriggled a bit more, pressing himself back against Drogo to wake him. The man snored in his ear and Viserys groaned before hitting his forearm. “Get up you brute!” He cried and Drogo only pulled him closer, as if he were some _plush_ that needed snuggling.

Viserys continued struggling and smacking Drogo’s skin before finally giving up and pouting at the rock in front of him in defeat.  Eventually, he drifted back into a light sleep.

*:･ﾟ✧

When violet eyes opened again, it was to see a pile of his silks and a flat piece of bark with a steaming filet of fish and a piece of stale bread and cheese. Breakfast. This time, there weren’t any arms holding him tight. Viserys sat up and looked around, wincing at the pain in his backside. Where was his blasted husband?

A bit timidly, Viserys ate from the “plate” before him, watching the current in the river as he chewed. Normally, this sort of food he would consider a slave’s ration, but his stomach was absolutely hollow. He needed the sustenance so he ate without complaint. Who would he complain to anyway? The fucking birds?

After breakfast, he stood and limped over to the river bank, sighing as the water broke over his sore feet. It was pleasantly cool, but not cold. He found a flat rock and sat upon it, using the water around him to wash off his stomach and wet down his hair. He so wished for some soaps right now. 

Looking down the river, Viserys saw his husband walking, still nude, toward him. His muscles glinted with water in the early sunlight and his hair still hung loose around his waist. Over his right shoulder, he carried a branch with four or five dead animals hanging from it and in his left hand, a spear.

Khal Drogo carried himself with all of the confidence of a king, wading through the current toward Viserys as if the push of the water against his calves was nothing. He was _beautiful._

That thought alone had Viserys grimacing at himself and standing, walking back to solid ground to get dressed. He was struggling a bit with the way the silks clung to his wet body. The _khal_ couldn’t help but chuckle when he saw.

Viserys turned on him and glared. “It isn’t funny, you idiotic creature!”

Drogo set the branch and weapon down before going over and gently removing the cloth from Viserys' body. The smaller man protested and flailed and Drogo chuckled again, motioning to the sun.

Viserys squinted at him and then sighed in defeat, sitting on the big rock in the direct sunlight to dry off. Drogo shook his head and kissed his small husband’s shoulder before getting to work on gutting the rabbits for lunch.

This would be a long marriage…for the both of them.


End file.
